


Goodbye, and Hello

by sam80853



Series: Love Actually [2]
Category: Love Actually (2003), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 22:24:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1486282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sam80853/pseuds/sam80853
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John running into a stranger aka Liam Neeson meeting Claudia Schiffer:)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goodbye, and Hello

John was standing at the podium looking at the crowd in front of him. All their friends and family - Mary’s and his - were here. Their daughter in the front row, barely able to hold back her tears. John knew how she felt. Just looking at their beautiful baby-girl broke his heart all over again.

“‘Don’t be daft’, Mary would say right now,” John said, voice breaking. “‘There is so much to live for, to look forward to. Just live, John.’” Tears were now streaming down John’s face freely. “‘Just because I’m no longer with you does not mean you can stop living too. You cannot.’” More and more tears run down John’s face while he spoke. He vividly remembered Mary’s words. He had no idea how Mary had been so brave, encouraging him to get going once she was gone, when it should have been him comforting her. 

“My wife,” John smiled through his tears, “the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.” An unwanted chuckle escaped John’s throat. “Well, except for that dark-haired stranger I literally run into years ago. Mary teased me relentlessly about him,” he said like he repeated a well-known story they had a good laugh about. People who knew what John was referring to laughed, others looked a bit bewildered. 

“To Mary Watson,” John said and started a slideshow of his wife’s too short life, her favourite songs playing in the background.

John stepped off the podium and took a seat beside his eight-year-old daughter Amelia. Their hands entwined while they watched, both trying to keep their composure.

Carrying Mary’s casket outside into the London rain was one of the most painful things John had to live through, and he had been wounded in Afghanistan.

Amelia and John stood by Mary’s grave long after everyone had gone home, holding hands and shedding silent tears.

~::~::~::~::~

Life had to go on, and it did. 

John always wondered how, though. Everything had changed for him and Amelia when Mary died. Just everything. But the world just kept on turning like nothing had happened.

Rain was still falling any other day in London.

Traffic was horrible as always.

Tube crowded.

School.

Job.

Shopping.

John tried very hard to get his life into balance once again. It was tough but he couldn’t just give up. Their daughter was only eight years old and he had to try. If only for her.

Life got better with time like people said it would. John didn’t know if that was good or bad. Good, he supposed.

Amelia fared better than John did. Obviously their daughter was more resilient than John. She was back in school, busying herself with homework, play dates and friends but always having a worried eye on her father.

“Are you coming to the school play, da?” Amelia asked one night and John was more than surprised that she even felt the need to ask.

“Of course, I will, love.” John said and placed a gentle kiss on her head. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Amelia nodded her head. “Good,” she said, smiling. “You need to get out more,” she decided and John laughed. “Meet new people,” she continued in earnest. “There is this boy in class, Billy, he lost his dad. Perhaps his mum is as lonely as you.” Amelia looked at him expectantly.

“Are you trying to get me a date?” John asked with humour in his voice. “I can’t believe that my eight-year-old daughter is trying to set me up,” he pulled Amelia down to him, tickling her tummy.

Amelia giggled happily.

“Maybe you'll like her.”

“Maybe.”

~::~::~::~::~

Of course on the day of Amelia’s school play John was running late. Flu season had an iron grip on London’s population and John’s skills had been in higher demand than usual.

Harry had picked up Amelia, meeting him at the school and John had to run for it.

He made it to Amelia’s school with less than ten minutes to curtain call. The halls were already empty and John’s footstep resounded off the walls. He rounded the last corner and run into something solid.

SomeONE solid.

John would have fallen to the floor if whoever he just had run into hadn’t had a steady grip on his forearm, holding him upright.

“Sor…,” John was about to apologize when his world once again seemed to be upside down. He had run into ‘his’ dark-haired stranger. Again.

The man looked at John, frowning.

“You.” The man said like he had recognized John as well, still holding onto John’s arm.

“John. John Watson,” John finally said when he had his breathing under control, reaching out his hand.

“Yes, of course,” the man said, taking John’s offered hand.

Everything around John suddenly burst into colour. Colours he thought he had lost but just one touch - skin on skin - of this man and… His breath came easier to him like a huge burden had been lifted of off his shoulders. John felt -- whole. And ridiculously happy.

“Tea?” The man asked.

“What?” John had absolutely no idea what was going on with him.

The stranger sighed deeply. “You prefer tea over coffee,” he said in a voice that was usually clearly followed by an annoyed eyeroll. “I was inviting you for tea, John Watson.”

John coughed with embarrassment.

“I… yeah, I… later,” John stuttered. God, he wanted to have tea with this man. Now. But, no, Amelia. He just couldn’t…

“Later then, obviously” the man said, a small knowing smile on his lips.

“Obviously?” John felt the need to ask.

“Your…,” the man cocked his head and took at John even more closely, “daughter,” he decided, “is in the school play you obviously would never miss. So, later.” The man said and was about to stride off.

“I don’t even know your name.” John called after him.

“The name is Sherlock Holmes.” Sherlock said and vanished around the corner.

“Nice to finally meet you Sherlock Holmes,” John whispered and hurried into the concert hall where the play was about to start.

“Where have you been?” Harry hissed when John took his seat.

“Just run into someone unexpected,” he answered and couldn’t for the life of him stop smiling.

~::~::~::~::~

Just minute after the play was over John received a message on his mobile phone.

_221B Baker Street_  
Come at once  
if convenient  
SH 

_If inconvenient_  
Come anyway,  
SH 

John laughed.

 

The End


End file.
